Best Tip Ever
by coldqueen
Summary: Mohinder is driving along one night, insomnia keeping him awake when he ends up in a very interesting situation. PAIRE


A/N: This was written for a challenge on the Livejournal community matureheroes. Thought I'd post it here so everyone can enjoy.

**Title:** Best Tip Ever

**Rating**: R

**Characters**: Peter, Claire, Mohinder

**Summary**: Mohinder gets more than he bargained for while working late one night.

**Spoilers**: S1

* * *

It had been a long night and it threatened to stretch out longer. Despite driving from one end of Manhattan to the other, Mohinder hadn't found more than three fares, none of which had tipped very well, if at all. Letting the last one out around Midtown, Mohinder pulled back into traffic and briefly considered returning his cab to the garage. He didn't really need the money or the job; Mohinder had taken a job at New York University a few weeks ago. It more than paid for his apartment and expenses and allowed him enough time to complete his father's research in his spare time.

It didn't help him sleep on these muggy spring nights that came so early to this foreign city. Then again, Mohinder would have trouble sleeping in the familiar muggy nights of his home country as well. His mind was forever leaping from one thought to the next, trying to make connections where there were none and trying to explain connections when there were.

Following all the connections quickly led Mohinder down a dark path directly linked to the Company which he and several others had "taken down" almost three months ago, sacrificing several people in the process.

According to what Mohinder now knew, the Company was alive and well and more internationally connected than any of them had suspected.

However, thoughts of the Company and his father's research weren't what kept Mohinder up at night. Good old-fashioned insomnia with a dash of loneliness was enough to keep the Sandman from visiting his shabby apartment. So, on a whim, Mohinder called up the New York Cab Service and asked for some hours. If he wasn't going to sleep, he might as well make a little extra money.

That's how Mohinder came to be driving down that street at that particular time and to the events that would disturb him for many days to come.

Turning down Lexington Avenue, he spied a waving hand near the corner and though the body that hand was attached to was shrouded in shadow, he pulled over anyways. Driving around alone in the early morning hours was no more fun than sitting at home alone in the early morning hours.

The cab barely paused before two figures are sliding into the back seat. A small blonde and a skinny brunet dressed for club hopping and Mohinder hopes they're not drunk. Drunks tend to forget their addresses and either tip very well and vomit on the floorboard, or not tip very well and keep Mohinder driving around for hours longer than necessary.

A hoarse voice barked out an address and a sense of familiarity pricked at Mohinder's senses. Turning just slightly, Mohinder looked into the back seat and immediately spun back around. For a few seconds, he doubted what he'd seen. Of all the cabs in all the cities, why did they have to decide to get into his?

And to do_ that_?

Mohinder Suresh is a man of science, however, and decided that only empirical evidence would calm his suddenly over-wrought nerves. Sliding the cab back into traffic, what little there is, Mohinder snuck glances into the rearview mirror and was shocked by what he saw.

She looked like she still belonged in a cheerleading outfit, though now she wore a mini-skirt and a strapless top. She had all those long golden curls pulled up into a high pony-tail, but that wouldn't last long the way her companion's fingers kept pulling at them. When she smiled it lit up the cab, making the shadows that came between streetlights disappear for those fleeting seconds.

Her companion whispered into the skin of her neck and bit as it gently. "Claire..."

Mohinder dragged his eyes away long enough to make a left turn onto some random street, trying to remember just where Peter's apartment was. Peter had told him when he'd slid into the cab behind Claire, but now the numbers and street name were conspicuously gone.

Peter wrapped his hands around Claire's bare thighs and dragged her onto his lap, kissing his way down her neck even as he fought to hold back. She laughed breathlessly and slid her hands under his suit jacket and up his shirt. "Peter? I can't wait..."

He grinned and kissed her deeply, pushing his tongue in and out of her mouth in a primal way that evoked memories of a deeper, lower, and more intimate joining. Claire moaned into his mouth, pressing the pulsing wetness under her skirt into Peter's lap and struggling to control her urges. Peter tore his mouth from hers, his head falling back as he struggled to breathe. "You want to do this_ here_?"

She bit his ear and soothed the sting with small furtive licks. "I don't care."

Mohinder didn't care either, but he wasn't going to admit that and ruin the mood. It took all of his concentration to keep the cab on the road and in the correct lane while Peter and Claire fucked in his back seat; he didn't have the brainpower leftover to form a sentient thought, let alone speak. For the most part, his brain kept repeating one word..._Guh_.

Mohinder's fists clenched around the steering wheel when Peter's hands slid Claire's skirt up and revealed the bright blue thong she wore underneath. His eyes darted from the road to the mirror and back dozens of times a minute as the scene behind him went from mildly naughty to illegal-in-public as the blocks between where he'd picked the couple up and where they wanted to go shortened in distance.

The little blue thong was little more than scrap material on the seat beside them now. The sound of Peter's zipper lowering and Claire's giggle was louder than any unintelligible music that was being ignored even as it blared out of the radio. The sound she made when Peter thrust into her would haunt Mohinder's dreams for weeks.

When Mohinder's cab sailed around a right turn with a screech of hasty brakes, Peter swore and Claire smiled into the words. She braced herself with one hand on the window and one on the partition by Mohinder's head and began to move.

Mohinder broke out in a cold sweat and tried to keep his mind out of the backseat, out of hot lust that was cresting in the fierce movements of the young couple that sat there. They were irresistible in their beauty, however, and Mohinder's mind, if not his eyes, were back there within moments.

The way Claire moaned around Peter's tongue echoed through the car and the small slapping noises of their hips meeting made Mohinder's mouth dry out and he blindly reached for the small bottle of water he kept in his bag.

He struggled not to compare the delicious coolness of the water with how wet Claire must be as she and Peter made love behind him.

The beat of Claire's hand on the window matched the staccato rhythm with which Peter thrusts thrust into her. She hit it harder as the seconds wore on and Mohinder can almost feel an answering pulse in his not-so-flaccid penis. With every moan and groan, every torrid breath and rugged sigh, Mohinder could feel his muscles clench and release, seeking a release of his own.

Peter wrapped his hand in Claire's hair, jerking her head back and biting her neck harshly as he pushed blindly into her soft flesh. Claire screamed as she felt her insides clench one final time before undulating in orgasm. Her muscles convulsively clenched and released Peter, who felt his own climax coming faster in answer to her own. Pressing one hand against the partition and another against Claire's hips, he steadied them enough that he could fuck her hard and rough against the front seat.

The thumps that came in rapid succession right behind him almost made Mohinder have an accident.

Peter jetted his seed deep into Claire's body and saw with some relief that they were just outside his building. Claire sighed softly into his neck, already her eyes closing sleepily and Peter knew he'd have to carry her to bed again.

Mohinder slammed on his brakes and struggled to keep a straight face, grateful that his dark complexion made it near-to-impossible to see a blush. Ducking down so that his face wasn't readily visible, he mumbled out the price of the ride and prayed that neither of his passengers would recognize him.

Peter pressed a fifty through the small slot and prayed that the driver wouldn't recognize Congressman Petrelli's younger brother.

When the sweaty but grinning couple stepped from the cab, Mohinder sped off but waited until he was out of sight before pulling over and cupping his rock-hard penis in his hand. Visions danced in his head of what just occurred and he was satisfied fairly quickly, but knew that this was one fantasy that would beg to be used again and again.

He knew one thing for certain.

Best. Tip. Ever.


End file.
